


End my misery

by Angelscythe



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Cindered Shadows DLC Spoilers, Gen, Is it love is it friendship we'll never know, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22839805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelscythe/pseuds/Angelscythe
Summary: When he was just a child, Ashe lived in the streets, until Lord Lonato saved him.When he was just a child, Yuri lived in the streets, until the Count Rowe saved him.Through their life alike, Ashe and Yuri meet and the Destiny kept pushing them toward each other...
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert & Yuris Leclair|Yuri Leclerc, Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	End my misery

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all!!! I love Ashe so much and this was a cool way to put some of my thoughts about him on a story.
> 
> English isn't my first language and I have dislexia so I hope I hadn't made too much mistake.  
> Thank you so much for your interest!!! You're doing awesomely!! You are awesome!! Don't forget that someone is loving you and to stay hydrated !! *blow a lot of love*
> 
> (also, feel free to send me love on @Angelscythe (or @_Angelscythe_ !!!) on twitter)

How could you live an happy life, being in Heaven, and suddenly… the earth opened under your feet and you would fall into Hell. Without having done anything bad for it?

Ashe wouldn’t say he was living a marvelous life… Sometimes, he would have so much chores, his back and limbs would be sore for days… He helped so much at home to help his parents… But he loved them with all his heart. And they loved him back dearly. His mother taught him to sew and knit, his father taught him to cook and would bring him in the restaurant’s kitchen to help with the meal or the service… He was always polite, using his little money to buy wool and knit plushies for his family or try to sell this on the market place. For his parents. It wasn’t the most perfect life because he would be angry some day, especially when customers didn’t come… and he would be always so full of desire when he saw the Nobles children passing by… with their beautiful clothes, their stomach full and so much more ability than him.

But he was happy.

This was a good life.

And then…

His parents died.

The illness came from nowhere. It tried to steal away his little sister but he did his best to save her, stealing the plants they had used for his parents… giving too much to her, perhaps? But she was alive.

And them…

They were in Hell.

The streets of Faerghus that used to be welcoming and full of surprises were now alley of forbidden prize they needed. Eating was something you deserved… when you have given everything you had for a few coins, when you had used your hands until they would bleed.

He had tried everything.

Anything, even the worst, was good if he could get a bit of money and make sure his siblings would get food. And when he couldn’t manage to get a few coins, he would come to the market and retrieve the rotten fruits, the abandoned piece of bread. Anything. It never looked really good but with his cooking talents, he would make his best to give the feeling to his siblings he would have a meal only Sothis would be worthy of!

Well… Sothis would probably never touch that, to be honest…

And him…

He only ate when his siblings had enough. Or when he couldn’t pursue like that. Because without him, how his brother and his sister would have done?

He wanted to earn that money with all his heart, be as good as his parents expected him to be… but he couldn’t always. Sometimes, he had to steal. He even had killed a chicken with an old bow, once, to flee away with it. They managed to eat correctly for three days that time.

He wanted to earn that money with all his heart but the more days passed, the more is innocence flown away so he could preserve his sibling’s…

He could have been born being the bars of a jail, it would have been the same, honestly. For him, there was no “who is my father”. It was someone who paid to make him but certainly didn’t wish to get such a prize. An accident. Something that had been kept because his mother couldn’t allow herself to remove him.

So he was there.

Brilliant.

His mother loved him, he had no doubt, but he knew this life didn’t want him…

He knew the efforts of his mother, he knew how much she was doing, giving herself for him to have food and trying to grab Noble’s attention to give him better. But he was used to this. He had grown up in the mire of the World, the rain falling on him was full of rotten things and he could never push away this smell from his.

He had learn to run so he wouldn’t be caught by those he would rob; he had learn to talk so he could threatened those who had more money than him.

It was bad, he knew it in the depth of his heart but… what else could he have done? It was that or he would die.

_No._

It was that or his mother would have died. And that was the worst.

His mother was the sweetest and most dedicated woman he never have meet. Seeing herself sacrifice her integrity and money for him every day had been the worst for him. For the few coins she earned the day she conceived him, how many had she lost? He had to do his best for her… Rob, threaten, lie…

Despite all of this, Life, perhaps, didn’t hate him so much because it put on his way someone who could give him more dices to roll his life. That old man, entering his life by hazard and stepping out of it, one day, like that, but laying in front of him every key for reading and writing. It became easier to make money, some days. Because wealthier people without those knowledge could pay for it. Sometimes he would go read a book to the old Lady, too blind to pursue.

But life didn’t give something against nothing…

When the Plague arrived, he thought he would die… and while he didn’t, his mother stayed very weak. You couldn’t expect from her to do her job, bring back money. So… he replaced her. In everything. Bringing money, making the food, among others things… Bringing money seemed easy, dirty or a bit less dirty because you had earned it. Even by repairing old clothes, sometimes. Even if it wasn’t money but a bit of food. Those who survived became even dearer to his heart and helped him to go to others towns, were they could expect a bit of money. Some they would share or some he would keep just for him because he had been the only one to work for that…

Money was missing, food was missing…

Ashe knew he had to do something. It depends of his siblings’ life!

He would do anything for them.

He knew it was bad but he had to do it anyway… The money he was gathering by week wasn’t enough for news clothes, for food, for medicine… You could believe it wasn’t useful to get news clothes but theirs had so many holes and the cold time was coming. He had to buy news clothes if they wanted to survive while the hardest time. Same for the food. They needed to do the provisions now.

So…

He was decided.

He will go to Lord Lonato’s house. They said the man was never there. It was his second house and the only thing you could see there were servants. And money, or expensive decoration.

Hence why he aimed this place.

As the night was falling, swallowing the fun, Ashe made sure the fire would life for the darkest and coldest time of the day and he tugged the covers, he made himself with scraps of other clothes. He pressed a kiss on each forehead and when he was sure they were asleep, he left them.

He hated letting them alone but he had to.

His bow in his back, the arrows with it, he was ready if things went bad.

He ran toward Lonato’s house and, swift as wind, discreet as a shadow, he moved around. With time, he learned how to force a lock without no one noticing it afterward, and he was able, thanks to his little size and skeletal silhouette, he could slide absolutely everywhere, like a cat.

And the little cat he was managed to enter in the Mansion without a lot of difficulties. He moved through the rooms and searched what he could steal. What had the most values. He didn’t want to take a lot. Perhaps objects could be important to them and he shouldn’t touch it. So… real money?

Real money!

He moved again and entered in a living room. Experience told him money was in a chest in the living room. Most of the time. Also, there was the office and the bedroom. But it was a second house so perhaps…

As he looked in the shelves, his eyes grabbed a book, he stopped there. The image of the cover swallowed his attention. He approached it, the fingertips brushing the hardcover, the peaks and the hollows making life the image. He opened it, cautious with his gestures, looking through the pages. He couldn’t read but… that didn’t matter. Everything was beautiful there, the big letters, the smaller letters, the images…

Blow away by it, he just sat, watching them, inspecting every page with admiration.

Light blossomed on the piece. Ashe had almost no light here, just the little candle on the marble coffee table, so when suddenly there was more… he didn’t notice it, too captivated by the words he couldn’t even read, the illuminated manuscript he couldn’t help but caress.

“Who is there?! Is this a thief?!”

Ashe hiccupped.

“Y… Yes. Sorry, I’m…”

He turned his head as he got up and, in the entry, he saw a teenage, fifteen or sixteen years old perhaps. The light was illuminating him as if he was an Angel. Even if he had a sword in his hand. Even if his stature showed that he was used to take the weapon, probably to strike those who would badly behave.

Just like hime.

“ _You_ are a thief?!” he said.

He walked toward Ashe. Which could have run away but… and if they followed him? If he led them to his dear family? He had to stay on place… He had to assume.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I took nothing. I swear.”

“What is it, Christophe?”

A big man appeared behind the Angel.

“Father! This child says being a thief?”

“But I took nothing,” Ashe repeated. “I… Please, please, don’t cut my hands…”

“Your hands?” the man whispered.

He had rich clothes. It was probably clothes you would put to go in the bed and yet, it was richer than anything Ashe could have seen. With such clothes, Ashe could have money for months, and stop worrying…

But he would lose his hands.

He would never be able to take care of his brother and his sister… Perhaps he still could bring money but… he was doubting.

The idiot.

Reading like that?

“You are a child,” the man said with a friendly voice. “You can’t be a thief…”

“But I am.” There was no pride in the voice of Ashe, this wasn’t a child playing neither. “I swore I took nothing. I… I wanted but I would have give it back to you!”

“Only because we caught you, isn’t it?” the man said. He looked down at the table, seeing the book open. He walked toward it and retrieved it. “Ah… _Loog and the Maiden of Wind_ , it used to be my favorite. I understand it got your attention. But… what bring a tiny thief to my house?”

“I… I need money, Sir. It’s not for me. It’s for my siblings. They are so young… I just want them to survive. I want them to…”

“Where are your parents? They send you because no one would cut the hand of a child?” the Noble asked.

Ashe looked down, shivering.

“Father…” Christophe whispered.

The man gazed at Ashe. He noticed his expression.

“What happened to your parents?”

“They died from illness…” Ashe whispered. “They… As long as we said nothing to the authorities… we stayed with them… but when people started to ask… when the smell was too strong…”

“Where are you living now? And your siblings?”

“Outside… Where we can.”

The man shook his head. He put a knee on the floor and held out his hand. Ashe passed backward, afraid. The hand landed, caressing softly his grey hairs.

“I will take care of you and your family… if you accept to trust me.”

No one used his name…

Sometimes, his mother would mutter it with a weak voice, when she called him because she needed his help or when she tried to make soup, for example. Soup… they were eating a lot of soup. You could use bad vegetables for that, those with rotten part or ugly looks. And throwing old bread in it was a good thing. It was making both more eatable. So they were eating soup, all the time. Or stew. Not very different if you wanted his opinion.

So… No one used his name and it was petty okay for him. He was just fourteen but he had already his name stamped all over the Kingdom. Robbery of high level were caused by him or his men… the only one he trusted. They were thug, they were pariah, they were bandits…

But he loved to believe they were only robbing the wealthy to give to the poor…

He didn’t know if this was truly that. Did it count if they were the poor in question? Wasn’t it selfish?

He wanted to do more, he wanted to hold out his hand to others but if his hand was weak and unable to be hold to other… what was the point?

So… he was doing what he could. And the first was to take care of his mother and his men…

As he could.

Sometimes, it was hard.

Someday…

Today was a cold day and he wandered across the town. It was always hard to remember that this town, though always being poor, had been full of life, full of colors… And now? Now, it had lost every of his color. The houses around were just hollowed carapace. The memories of those who lived there vanished…

The snow was slowly falling, invading those places, eating them, sending the misery of what remained of this very little village. Who wouldn’t want to come here again? If they hadn’t everything there. He was fine with doing the whole journey to another city and coming back after. Even if he had to step away from the town a few days. In fact…

“Eh!”

When he heard voices calling him, the young teenage turned his head, his long purple hairs waving around. They looked a part of the landscape, melting with the snow turning grey or violet here and there…

“Hello, you!”

It was three big men.

The town was tiny, almost entirely devastated from the illness and he knew everyone but… that didn’t mean everyone was among his guys. That didn’t mean everyone was among those he would trust.

He hated those three, though he would always hang out with them…

One of them lowered toward him.

“How have you been? It’s been so long!”

“So long!” his friend added.

“Where were you? Do you have found a juicy place? Tell us,” he smiled.

“You don’t have to know. Go find your own juicy place by your own or I swear…”

“We have found some juicy place, in fact!” the guy replied. “Look at this.”

He held out money with a smile.

There were so many coins it almost fell from his hand as he showed them to the teenage. Which would have been so glad to have… just a tiny part of that. Just a really tiny part… It was enough for his men and for his mother especially.

“You want some, perhaps?” the guy asked.

The teenage watched him in the eyes.

Yet, it didn’t prevent himself from seeing… the knife in his other hand. That hand was used to hold out a knife and the grip was firm. That hand was used to kill with such a knife and now it was to wonder if those coins weren’t dirty of blood.

“So…” the guy smiled.

“Gentlemen?!”

The teenage turned his head.

How didn’t they notice it? The carriage coming along the path. A carriage tugged by two big horses adorned with so much pretty fabrics and beautiful jewelries.

But the man coming down the carriage wasn’t one of those Noble with money and nothing else. He had an armor covered with bloods and his white hairs, as well as his mustache, were turning pink because of it.

“Don’t approach the child!” he said.

“But he is…”

“I say to step away from the child!” the Knight commanded, holding out his sword.

The hand of the guy was used to hold knife and yet… the fingers twitched and the knife fell on the mud. They were three, yes, but the man had wrinkles and scars telling how many fight he had win!

As he saw them run away, letting the child alone, the Knight let out a laugh.

“Those brigands, right?!” He stepped toward the child. “I just wanted to know where I was and how to come back to my county, at first!” He folded his arms. “Can you give us the direction?”

The teenage nodded.

The man, though smiling, had the face of someone exhausted. For whatever reason… too many deaths from his hand? A too long journey?

“I don’t life very far away from there, Sir. Do you want to rest? The snow will fall harder soon and it isn’t a good thing to go by the paths on such weather. It is full of brigands,” he smirked.

The man lowered his face toward him.

“And you… Are you a brigand?”

“Perhaps?” he smiled.

The man laughed. “Then try not to rob people that would hit you back, child! Why would you only do that?”

The child held out his arms. “What else would you do here?”

“Point for you. What happened here? Come to the carriage and explain me,” he asked, holding the door to him. “I am the Count Rowe, by the way. And you?”

The child smiled as he gave him his name.

Only a few months passed after this day.

Never Yuri Leclerc would believe this man would ask to adopt him. His wife wasn’t able to have a child and his county wasn’t important enough to need to have a Crest. So they swore they would adopt a child needing help when they would found one. And that was how Yuri Leclerc has been adopted… He still could see his real mother, who received a bit of money in exchange of letting her child living a good life, and had a new mother as well. A mother that helped him to get beautiful today. For him, it was so weird to have clothes made with silk and with golden thread… What could he have done with that?

But he said nothing because his father told him he would teach him the art of war, and magic. While war wasn’t what he wanted the most, though any new skills in fight was to take, magic was interesting him…

But, to him, it was quite ironic. When he was just a child, since he didn’t know who was his father, he always wondered who was his father. Could he be a Noble? Someone who would save them from the misery? And today, his father was a Count, saving him from the misery…

Sometimes, he would wake up at night and pinch him very hard, just to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. Just to be sure he was really living with a Count, and knowing his mother was living a better life. The life she deserved.

Yuri didn’t feel real at the idea of attending a big Ball but he was following his new mother without protestation because this was a very cheap prize for what he received in return.

“Oh no…” his new mother sighed.

“What?”

Yuri just had let the word pass his lips that the count, having at least fifty years, crossed the corridor like a child on a playground. Dashing in front of him. And someone from the other side of the corridor… didn’t move on the side to let him pass but ran to the embrace. They hugged each other, laughing and smiling.

“Dear Yuri, here is Lord Lonato, your father’s best friend. Get used to see them being silly as soon as they are near to each other,” the Countess smirked.

“Yuri?” Lord Lonato said, looking at the teenage.

Teenage who dried to do the perfect bow as it has been taught to him.

“Here is the son I adopted! Yuri! My baby boy!”

“Really?” he laughed. “You won’t believe this, Lucia, you who always say we can’t stop doing the same…” Lonato turned his head. “Ashe, my boy?”

A tiny boy swirled. He was just next Christophe, looking even tinier and so skinny. He came quickly toward Lonato, his freckles looking like a million of Stars and his cheeks having two rising sun displaying red.

“Here is Ashe, my son. I adopted it a few days ago.”

Lonato caressed his head.

Lucia, the Countess, had a sigh and a soft smile at once while Yuri and Ashe stared at each other.

“I also adopted his brother and sister but they are sleeping. They are very young. Ashe won’t stay long neither. But he begged to see come, he loves Knights.”

“I… I really would like to become like Loog, one day,” he blushed, his cheeks even redder.

“You will,” Lonato said, caressing his hairs. “Why wouldn’t you go play with Yuri a bit? This would be funnier for you.”

Ashe looked at Yuri. Which was surprised. He wasn’t really used to see children of his ages. He was used to live with people very older. And most of them had to grow up faster so…

“Yuri, you go play with him?” Rowe asked.

“Sure.”

Yuri held out his hand to Ashe. Who took it. He then accepted to follow him. All of this was so strange for Yuri. Going in the garden and watching the snow who adorned the landscape like in a paint. He would never be afraid anymore to be blocked outside, in such a cold weather… Snow wasn’t worrying again.

“Ah! Look!” Ashe held out his finger, holding thigh Yuri’s hand with the other hand. “That was my house there. You can’t really see it because it was so tiny… And… Uh… I think they destroyed it.”

Ashe let out a giggle, rubbing his nape, annoyed.

“They destroyed your house?”

“It was a shack when we were living in but when my parents died…”

“Your parents died?”

Ashe nodded.

“You lived in the streets?”

New nod.

Yuri approached the barrier, still holding his hand. He looked the landscape all around. In these towns, how many lost and afraid children were shaking, shivering… And from all of them, two children, who have lived Hell, had been saved by Nobles. And the irony made that… they arrived here together.

Seven years later

Ashe would follow his Prince everywhere, anywhere. When some Monks moved old barrel and a few fabrics in the Monastery and it showed a big hole, he followed his Prince. Dimitri couldn’t go there alone… Yes, he was with the future Duke of the Alliance and the future Empress but Dimitri would be alone. He was too worry and he walked after him in those maze of corridors, plunging in a strange smell.

It wasn’t the smell he could remember when he was a child. It wasn’t the stench of streets filled with detritus, urine and others ugly things… It was more the smell you could find in the old library room of Lonato. Something closed for too long. And there was the perfume of incense as well. As if it tried to mask the truth…

As they had walked down, Ashe was relieved to be by the side of his Prince because they fall in an ambush.

Whatever was living under the Monastery, it was trying to defend itself.

And… they all have those profiles… this one you were too used to when you came from the streets. They were all marked. Not in the flesh like everybody might imagine it, with scars and burns, but in the eyes… They had in the eyes the glow of someone who had done too much, that had try too far to be able to life again a bit more a life you weren’t even sure you wanted to live…

Ashe would have, honestly, just wanted to step away but… before he could even ask for this, magic was coming from Linhardt, axes was holding from Hilda and Edelgard’s side and Claude had his bow prepared. His Prince, also, was holding out his spear.

Their teacher, who accompanied them, sword on hand, just achieved him.

They have to fight.

It was strange but… for him, who always wished to be a Knight, this fight wasn’t as bright as he believed. What was so beautiful in beating people living in the core of Garreg Mach. His arrows flew, touched his target but never took away life. His Prince, and the future Empress, hadn’t this concern. Linhardt and Hilda would follow his step. One because the less blood, the better he’d feel and Hilda because if Claude could do all the dirty work for her and she could just blow kisses at them to make them miss their hit, she preferred!

For him, it was…

He didn’t…

He couldn’t…

Was it really the prize to keep going? They were going in their place and they were spreading blood, flesh and bodies behind them…

As they moved through the corridors, he looked the horror they were unleashing. As they moved through the corridors, his head was emptying and when he heard voice around them, he didn’t know how it might have happened?!

“But… aren’t you…”

A guy approached and his face approached Hilda’s. She blinked heavily and Claude grabbed her by the waist to push her to him, grasping an arrow with his other hand.

“You look like Holst Goneril! Are you his daughter?!”

Hilda laughed.

“I’m his lil’ sister!”

“Hilda!” Claude worried for her.

“And isn’t it Lady Edelgard Von Hresvelg?!” a melodic voice said.

A girl jumped from a Pegasus and approached her face from her. She already had an axe under her chin though, because you wouldn’t approach Edelgard like that without risking your life.

“And you are?!”

“Can’t believe I’m seeing Holst’s lil’ sister!” the guy said.

“I’m Constance von Nuvelle!” his friend said by his side, pushing away a lock of blond and purple lock.

“And I’m very sleepy, bye!” their friend yawned.

“Same.” As he said those words, Linhardt removed a pillow from under his uniform. “Wanna share?”

“Oh yes!”

The girl jumped back her horse, caressed the neck and ran toward Linhardt.

“I’m Hapi,” she said.

“What… is… happening?” Dimitri whispered.

He looked at Edelgard who talked with Constance, looking surprised to find her. And Claude was talking with that guy… Balthus? He really looked like he knew Holst and he didn’t even want to hurt Hilda. The very invert, in fact.

“Do you know anyone, you?” Dimitri laughed softly to Ashe.

Ashe blushed as the Prince talked to him. He shook his head.

“Excuse me…”

The last guy approached.

Ashe looked at him and saw the hairs that reminded him the snow in the last gloom of night in winter…

“Aren’t you the son of Lord Lonato?”

“Please, no!” Dimitri said, moving his hands.

“L… Lord Lon…”

The Prince turned toward the young archer and… it was already too late. Tears were rolling over his soft freckles.

“Y… yes. He… That’s my father…” he hiccupped.

“Oh, is he crying?” Constance said, turning her head to him.

“I didn’t mean to…”

Hapi, sat on the floor with Linhardt, noticed the tears as well.

“Yuri! We should bring him home and give him cake!”

“Our last piece of cake?” Balthus groaned.

“Be nice!” Constance commanded, hitting him on the chest.

When they entered in the guts of Garreg Mach, they never expected to encounter a group of Pariah that seemed to live there and they certainly didn’t expect to end up in a kind of tavern, Ashe sharing a tiny piece of cake with nine teenagers and young adults, and a very adult one, Byleth’s vest wrapped around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” Ashe said.

He rubbed his nose and Constance handed him a handkerchief.

“Don’t worry,” Hapi told him before ruffling his hair.

He smiled a bit and let Balthus finish the cake. The handkerchief still in hand, he watched as the little group moved away, talking and discovering each other. Or re-discovering each other. He noticed that Dimitri was keeping an eye on him but a bit away. And this though he was talking with Edelgard and Constance.

Hapi and Linhardt were sleeping somewhere and Byleth, tasting a beer from her with Balthus who talked with Claude and Hilda, looked at him as well.

Yuri didn’t move away.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said. “I guess you don’t remember me?”

“I’m sorry?”

Yuri shook his head. “Don’t worry. It has been a bit of time. Three or four years? I’m Rowe’s adoptive child. Our father used to make us play all the time together.”

Ashe watched him.

A few long seconds.

“We talked long hours… I was coming from a poor city that had been destroyed by the Plague… Our fathers were always so glad because we had the same experience and we could… remember it together?”

Ashe hiccupped. “Yes! Yuri! I’m sorry for not having…”

“Don’t worry. You look a bit in shock. And you hadn’t even got a lot of cake.”

Ashe giggled a bit and then hiccupped again, choking in a sob. He blew his nsoe in Constance’s handkerchief and thought she would be pretty angry at him…

“Is something wrong?” Yuri asked.

“It’s… father is…” He looked down. “He died last month… in front of my eyes…”

“I’m sorry, Ashe.”

Yuri got up and came next to him, sliding his hand over his. It was strange to Ashe because the past was coming back to him and the feeling of his fingers on his as well…

“Is there anything I can do?”

Ashe shook his head. “I’m sorry… It’s just so vivid.”

“I understand… I wasn’t aware.”

“You don’t have much contact with your father? They were best friend, isn’t it?”

“Yes… I have less contact with him because…” Yuri sighed. “Tell me what happened, please? If it isn’t too hard.”

“Father never bears Christophe’s death… He hated the Church and he tried to kill the Archbishop. The Knight stopped him and…” Ashe pressed his face in his hands. “But I never understood why he forced villagers to fight with him? He turned so mad… It wasn’t him anymore. I don’t know if it was mercy from us to…”

Ashe hiccupped again. Yuri gave him back the handkerchief, caressing softly his hand.

“I can ask my father if you want to know, really. I know your father loved Christophe very much… but he loved you as well.”

“Thank you… Since I have been here, I’m just… confused. If he hated the Church that much, why did he send me here? And…” He looked his hand. “Have you already killed?”

“Yes.” Yuri had no reason to hide anything to him. “I killed Knights, that’s how I ended up here.”

“You… You killed Knights?”

“It was the Knights or my friends… the choice had been made easily.”

Ashe shivered in front of Yuri’s determination.

“Do you ever regrets?”

“No. You can’t live with regrets, Ashe.” Yuri moved his hand and pushed away softly a grey strand. “I have no attach with the Knights except what father taught me. The only thing a little sad is the fact I have lost contact with father.”

“Was he upset from what you did?”

“He said nothing. I think… I disappointed him a little but he always told me to do what my heart told me to.” Yuri rubbed his hair. “I suppose if killing bandits is fine, killing people doing bad things is fine too.”

“When I killed the first time…” Ashe gulped. “I never believed it would be like that. Suddenly, being Knight wasn’t awesome at all… I had to kill them or they would kill me, kill my friends but…”

Ashe watched his hand, the one holding the handkerchief.

“It looks like it is still red. It looks like…”

Yuri lifted the hand he was holding. He kissed his wrist and then his palm.

“You will forget or you will not but it doesn’t matter. You are not killing because you want to do bad things. You are protecting. As you wished when you were a child.”

Ashe watched his, hiccupping again.

“Y… You…”

Yuri nodded. “They would say I am doing wrong, I believe, but I am protecting those who need it. It let me forget how my hands look. As you said, your friends could die… It’s probably selfish but it helps to sleep at night.”

“I will try to follow your advices,” Ashe swore.

He blew his nose again.

“You and I, we lived worse again. We survived worse… And if really you feel like you can’t… it is never too late to change.”

Ashe nodded. “Thank you and sorry,” he said.

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Yuri got up. “We might need your help so if you need something… just feel free to come.”

Yuri was laying in his bed, his thoughts flying in the cellar. He had so much to do. He never expected all of this to pass like that but he had the feeling things would move swiftly toward… well none of his plans were ready for all of this but if he could protect his beloved, it was following his plans.

For him, the end would excuse any means…

“Yuri?”

Yuri turned his head above the bed. “Yes?”

“It’s Ashe.”

“I recognized your voice,” Yuri smiled.

“Can I come with you?”

Ashe felt so stupid because he had stopped sleeping with someone else when he was just four years old. It happened that he had someone in his bed but when his siblings were sick and wanted a bit of Human warmth…

“Of course,” Yuri said, moving toward the wall.

Ashe climbed the ladder and slid next to him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said.

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Yuri rolled toward him. He watched it through the darkness. “What is wrong?”

“I’m just exhausted,” he whispered. “All the time. And Constance will be sad, her handkerchief…”

“Don’t worry, Constance has a lot of them. She prefers to give them to those needing it. Especially if you praise her,” he smirked. “As for your mood, it will be better soon,” Yuri said. “Give yourself time.”

He pushed a strand of hair.

“Yes,” Ashe replied.

“I thought about your other question, you know? If your father hated the Church, why sending you here…”

Ashe watched him.

Yuri wrapped an arm around his frail shoulders, bringing him toward him to comfort him.

“It was important for you. You really wanted to become a Knight for the Kingdom.”

“It is true.”

“He loved you. Until his last breath.”

“The Count Rowe love you also so much,” Ashe said as his cheeks were red. “He was always talking about you, so proud… You should try to contact him again. He certainly miss you.”

“I will send him a letter. But only if you promise me to keep smiling… while being able to let you cry when you need it. And I’d be there. If you need it.”

“I would be there for you too, Yuri, really.”

He snuggled in his arms and pressed a kiss on his cheek. Yuri hugged him more and tugged the blankets around them, his chin laying on his forehead, his fingers rubbing softly his back.


End file.
